


Dean Winchester's Adventures in Sexual Frustration or Five Times That Goddamned Nerdy Angel Was a Total Cockblocker (And One Time He Wasn't)

by Thette



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 5+1 Things, Canon Temporary Character Death, Frottage, Handprint Kink, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Implied/Referenced Underage Prostitution, Jealous Castiel, M/M, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-16
Updated: 2013-11-16
Packaged: 2018-01-01 18:15:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1047040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thette/pseuds/Thette
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean keeps trying to get laid, or even just get off, but somehow, Castiel always seem to cockblock him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dean Winchester's Adventures in Sexual Frustration or Five Times That Goddamned Nerdy Angel Was a Total Cockblocker (And One Time He Wasn't)

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings/Content notes: Canon major character death (but not really); suicidal ideation; misogynistic and homophobic language on the same level as in the show; jealous and possessive Castiel; handprint kink; references to cheating (not Dean) and earlier prostitution (Dean)
> 
> Takes place during season 5, diverging from canon after Swan Song 5x22. In my headcanon, Jimmy Novak doesn't exist after Castiel's death in Swan Song. Written for sonicsassbutt (who's now hotashales) on Tumblr, for the prompt: _touch. jealous. shock. Any of those words sound good to me. I mean fluff, smut what's the difference. ;) I'm just praying you don't make me cry from overwhelming sadness._ I decided not to use shock, because I'm writing another fic with a Hulk hunt, where Bruce Banner gets to take care of a Dean in cardiogenic shock, and I don't want to overuse my tropes.
> 
> Originally posted at Rosemaryfic on Livejournal 2013-04-08.

1.The first time, it was subtle.  
  
With the Apocalypse approaching, Dean hadn't even bothered to try getting laid in weeks. Sure, there were plenty of pretty young women around, hankering for a ride, in all senses of the word, with the bad boy in the classic car. But that would have meant Sam would be alone in their motel room, and god only knew what he'd get up to this time. It wasn't like his baby brother had a track record of great decisions, and Lucifer was sniffing their tails.  
  
But hey, it was time to break the dry spell. Cas had healed Sam after a pretty rough run in with demons, and he was sleeping it off in their room. No waking Sleeping Beauty until well into tomorrow, and the wards in the room were fresh and steeped in angel magic. The roadside dive across from the motel wasn't exactly a sexy sorority sleepover place, but there were chicks there. Some chicks. A few chicks who didn't have boyfriends. At least two chicks who didn't look like they wiped the floor with their faces. He'd scored in worse conditions and, let's face it, he was only after somewhere to bury his dick.

He ordered a double of rot gut bourbon, and knocked it back, gesturing for another. The reasonably pretty black girl with the great tits (real? probably, this wasn't California) and cute dreads on the other side of the bar started eyeing him, and he eyed her right back, doing the silent "how you doin'". She smirked, and sipped her beer. He always liked a woman who could go for a beer instead of a fancy drink. It was cheaper, and also a good sign she'd be frisky and adventurous in bed. He ordered one beer for himself, and let the bartender deliver another to her. She smiled a more genuine smile, and walked towards him with a sexy and slightly drunk sway of her hips. He took a more careful look. Drunk, but not drunk enough to make him a creep, and clearly looking for a fuck. Okay, then.  
  
"Hey there, pretty boy."  
  
"Hey yourself, gorgeous." He raised the beer and smiled that patented Dean Winchester smile. "Is it hot in here, or is it just you?"  
  
"I don't know, but try dropping the flannel and we'll see." Slightly more direct than he was used to. Damn, where was his holy water bottle? Better check her. He'd fallen into more than one sexy demon trap before. Salt. Salt would have to do. He took his shirt off, and "accidentally" flinged some of the salt he carried in the breast pocket at her. No reaction.  
  
"Sorry."  
  
"Don't worry about it. Hey, cool tat," she said, brushing the salt off her arm.  
  
"This?" he asked, gesturing to the anti-possession tattoo, a few rays visible over the collar of his t-shirt. How the hell should he explain it without alarming her?  
  
"No, I mean that one," she said, touching the arm where Cas' handprint was burned into his skin. "Oh, is it a brand?"  
  
"Yeah," he said, suddenly uncomfortable with her touch. "It's quite fresh, and it still hurts, so..."  
  
"Okay." She removed her hand, and they didn't look at each other for a while, drinking and trying silently to find a way to salvage the situation.  
  
"So... Do you have any tattoos?" he asked. She took his hand and slid it around her waist and down towards the small of her back.  
  
"You could try to find out..." He gripped her tighter, and pulled her in for a quick and dirty kiss. She loved it, clearly, because she pulled his head down for another, longer one.  
  
"Hello, Dean." God fucking damnit, not right now!  
  
"Cas."  
  
"I need your assistance."  
  
He slowly let go of the woman. He didn't even know her name yet. "Sorry, babe, work calling. Raincheck?"  
  
"Yeah, whatever," she rolled her eyes at him and left in a huff.  
  
"This had better be good, because I was going to tap that ass so hard." The angel frowned. "Nevermind. What's the deal?"  
  
"I discovered that the demons weren't working alone. Sam is still asleep, but we can take them out together."  
  
And Cas was right, of course. There was a huge nest (did you say nest about demons? horde? whatever) of demons, and with Ruby's knife and some angel mojo, they took them out before Sam even woke up. Cas thanked him before he left, and actually said goodbye this time with a pat on his left shoulder.  
  
2\. The second time, he didn't even think about until much later.  
  
Sam had left for the library after pitching an epic bitchfit. That meant Dean was alone, and he had the computer all to himself, for "research". Yeah, Gabe might have had a point with his sitcom. The dick. The Busty Asian Beauties site was down, which meant googling. Last time he had tried, he'd forgotten to browse in incognito mode, and Sam had stared at him with those scrunchy expressions for days because of the suggestions Google threw at him. It hadn't seemed to help that Dean explained that the only other option would be to wipe the browser history, and lose the other, valuable searches. Incognito mode on, you're welcome, Sasquatch. He cracked his fingers, put the laptop down beside him on the bed and deliberately stopped thinking about Sam.  
  
"Asian porn" would do for a start. Half the search results were cartoons, and they were... not bad. It was called anime, apparently. Not always arousing, sometimes too over the top, but most were of tiny women with huge boobs. Huh. Yeah, he could go for that. The faces they made, and the things they did that were impossible in real life, it went straight to his dick. The high-pitched moans were so goddamned sexy, and he was already rubbing, wanting to get the lotion bottle but not wanting to get up. It wasn't on the bedside table to the right. He fumbled for the bag beside the bed on the left. It took some twisting, but he managed to get his right hand across his torso, over the shoulder, into the bag, and grab the bottle. When he looked up, Cas was watching him.  
  
"Dammit, Cas, wear a fucking bell or something!" He withdrew his hand and slammed the computer shut. Cas stood uncomfortably close, and his head was tilted curiously, studying him. "I was having a private moment, OK? Would it kill you to knock?"  
  
"No. I can only be killed by an angel blade."  
  
"Whatever. Why are you here?"  
  
"I have information about your hunt." And he did. And Sam would probably have fallen right down the trap that the witch had set, leaving him vulnerable to Lucifer, if they hadn't been in time to warn him. Dean even thanked Cas before he left, and got a curious head tilt in return.  
  
"Yes, thanks, I mean it, even though you interrupted me. But dude, warn a guy." Cas teleported away again, and Sam looked at him with contempt.  
  
"Research?"  
  
"Shut up, bitch."  
  
"Jerk. Just wipe it from the computer, and never let me know."  
  
3\. The third time, he really didn't mind.  
  
It had been a great hunt. A simple salt and burn, the vengeful spirit of a teenage girl who had killed herself over unrequited love and possessed other girls in similar situations. Sure, the death toll had been high, but that was all before they came onto the scene. Apparently, it took twelve teenage suicides until the media started writing alarmed articles. Even Bobby had said they had done a good job, though he still called them idjits for not seeing it sooner.  
  
Dean dragged his whiny ass little brother and the prissy angel to the local bar to celebrate. (Also, it was fun to get Cas drunk. He never had much social skills, but when he got a bottle or ten inside his vest, he let go of the "Warrior of the Lord" schtick and became clingy and giggly. It was hilarious.) Dean bought whiskey for himself and Cas, and beer for Sam. On the way back to their booth, he caught sight of a gorgeous blonde with brown eyes. He gestured with his head, and she followed him back.  
  
"Hello, sweetie," she said with a Texan lilt in her voice. Doctor Who fan or just using what she grew up with? He looked her over from top to toe and back again, and decided she wasn't likely to be a geek. Shame.  
  
"Hi there. I'm Dean. I'll just go give my brother and my friend their drinks, and I'll be right back." She smiled, and walked with him to the booth, their shoulders rubbing and her hand on his elbow.  
  
"I'm Louise. Haven't seen you around before. Are you planning to stay?"  
  
"Sorry, just passing through." That brought out a smirk. Perfect.  
  
"Dean," Cas said. Dean tried to silence him with the universal facial expression for "shut the fuck up, I'm going to get laid," but of course, that only lead to a stare off. Again. Somebody needed to help Cas figure out social cues, and it shouldn't have to be him. "Dean, I know you engage in fornication, but I have never seen you take part in adultery."  
  
"What the hell, Cas?!"  
  
"Mary-Lou is trying to be unfaithful to her husband."  
  
"What the hell?!" He turned to Louise, or whatever her name was. She was gaping at Cas, just like people did when they met him the first time. "Please tell me that's not true."  
  
"Fuck off!" she shouted and left, after throwing her drink in Cas' face. Bah. Bitch. Cheating bitch, apparently.  
  
"Thanks, Cas, I guess." He sat down by the angel's side, and made a face at Sam, who made a face right back. AC/DC's She's Got the Jack was playing, and he could feel a half smile twitch in the left side of his mouth. Appropriate. There was no trace of the sticky sweet lime green drink on Cas' face or his trenchcoat.  
  
"Zachariah was wrong about you," Cas said.  
  
"Where did that come from?"  
  
"You're not a simple hedonist. You may not be one of the angels, but you do have a strict set of morals."  
  
"Yeah, I'm not going to help someone cheat."  
  
"Not just that." The silence was awkward. And now he was staring at Cas again. "Your moral conviction is one of the things I admire about you."  
  
"Sheesh, you can't just say things like that to a guy." Cas... admired him?  
  
"Why?"  
  
"You just... You just don't, okay?"  
  
"My apologies," Cas said, and laid a hand on his shoulder.  
  
"Yeah, apology accepted, and now we stop talking about our feelings, Oprah."  
  
4\. The fourth time, he started putting the pieces together.  
  
Look, it had been a very long time, all right? He'd never thought a guy could die from blue balls, but this apocalypse thing was starting to test that theory. So, when the trucker started flirting, he flirted right back. Come on, a guy who would try to pick someone up at a Gas-n-Sipcould only want one thing, and that just happened to be the same thing he himself wanted. Sam was off browsing the food aisles, so he shouted a quick "Be back later" and left a minute after his hookup.  
  
The back of the gas station wasn't exactly a sexy setting, but he still let the burly guy crowd him against the wall. If things turned ugly, he could easily take him down, anyway. The tension of having someone large pressed against him had already made him half hard. "You've got such a pretty mouth."  
  
"Are we gonna talk or are we gonna help each other out?"  
  
The trucker laughed. "How much for a blowjob?"  
  
"I'm not a whore. I blow you, you blow me, no money changes hands." Not that he hadn't, on occasion, when money was tight and Sam needed food, been in that situation before. But right now, he just desperately wanted to get off.  
  
"Do I look like I suck cock?" He rolled his eyes. Saying something about closet cases would probably not help him reach his goal.  
  
"Fine. Handjobs it is, then." Closet case groaned, but pushed his hips into Dean's waiting hand and held onto his upper arms. Finally. Finally. He got some friction for his own cock, and started thrusting. Where was the damned zipper?  
  
Dean never got that far, because all of a sudden, trucker-in-the-closet was up against the hard brick wall, held tight by an invisible angel force field. Cas' eyes were on fire. Not literal, fry your eyes out, angel fire, but they still burned into him with an almost physical force. "Dean," he said, voice even lower than usual, if that was possible. Holy hell, that was almost hot!  
  
"I didn't know he was your boyfriend, I swear," babbled the trucker. Cas gave him one long stare, and released him. Dean saw his soiled pants as he ran away.  
  
"Cas," Dean said, and they caught each other's eyes again. This time, he would not be the first to look away. Cas did that little half-squint focusing thing, and Dean stared back, lifting his eyebrows slightly. Cas stepped closer, right into his personal space, without once breaking eye contact. They touched, for the first time since the bar, Cas' right hand held tight over the brand. Dean could feel the handprint burning, singing out to the touch, and he raised his own hand to Cas' chest. He really had the intention to push him away, but he just... couldn't.  
  
"Whoa," Sam said from behind them, and just like that, the spell was broken. "Hey, Cas, didn't know you were here, do you need a minute..." The words came spilling out of Sam's mouth, and Dean didn't know he was happy or sad or both that the moment of... whatever it was... was over.  
  
"We're good," Dean said, turning his back towards the angel.  
  
5\. The fifth time, it was a test.  
  
Sam and Bobby were holed up in Bobby's library, diving deep into apocalypse lore. Dean had been bored for hours, and decided to go out and test his disturbing theory. For science, bitches! He decided not to tell Sam that, kid was enough of a geek anyway. "I'm gonna go for pie. Want some?" he asked. Bobby did. Sam didn't. "Wouldn't want you to eat too many veggies, Sammy, you're tall enough as it is." The eyeroll he got in reply was epic.  
  
He did go to the diner he liked best in Sioux Falls, and he did order pie. (Cherry for him, and key lime for Bobby.) But what he really was there for was the waitress. (Cute, chubby, maternal even though she was younger than him, called Peggy Sue of all things.) They had a mostly friendly thing going on. "Well, if it isn't my favorite girl," he said, mostly joking.  
  
"Aw, stop it, Dean, you're giving me diabetes."  
  
"Don't blame me, you're the sugar here."  
  
"What do you want?" She put her hands on her hips.  
  
"Am I really that transparent?"  
  
"I see right through you, hon," she said with a poke at his chest. He really did like her. She was the reason he went for most of the food runs when they were staying at Bobby's. There was something of Ellen in her, if Ellen had been friendly and young.  
  
"Hey, this is gonna sound really crazy..."  
  
"Crazier than zombietown?"  
  
He considered it. "No, probably not."  
  
"Then we're good. Shoot."  
  
"See, there's this guy..." He got stuck on how to explain Cas.  
  
"Aw, hon, don't worry about it. Not after what you and your brother have done for us."  
  
"It's not like that." She raised her eyebrow at him. "I don't think it is, at least. But anyway, this guy, he's sort of my guardian angel. And I mean angel as in  _angel_  angel, not Hallmark angel."  
  
"Made of fire, with six wings, singing Holy, Holy, Holy and purifying the prophet with coal? Four faces and four wings, guarding the Garden of Eden?" He smiled at her with a tiny half-wink. "What? A girl can't read her Bible?"  
  
"It's something like that. Very Warrior of the Lord, you know, but currently wearing an ad sales guy from Illinois. And this angel, he's cockblocking me."  
  
"See, you should be saving yourself for that special girl. Or guy."  
  
"Shut up." It felt a bit like that time Dad had walked in on him making out with Jenna Jones, and the awkward birds and bees conversation that had followed. Not that there was many similarities, but the rare blush was the same. "Anyway, he's stalking me. Whenever I try to get some, he comes around and interrupts. I think he knows it when someone touches my scar."  
  
"What scar?" God, as if this could get any more embarrassing.  
  
"He burned his handprint into my shoulder." The look on her face was priceless.  
  
"You got claimed by an angel, hon. No wonder he's jealous when you go whoring about." Dean's ears were burning.  
  
"So, uhm, yeah, what I wanted you to do for me, uh, was to fake trying to pick me up, and see if he comes around..."  
  
"Oooh, boy, I don't want the Wrath of God rainin' down on me."  
  
"I get that, really, I do. Just put your hand on my shoulder. Please?"  
  
"The things I do for a pretty pair of eyes. Come 'ere, Dean, let's give this a shot." She came out from behind the counter and gave him a warm hug. It felt odd when she took a half step back, lifted her right hand and held his shoulder. "Like this?" The fluttering was unmistakable.  
  
"Hello, Dean."  
  
"Hi, Cas." Oh. Yeah. No. Stalker angel, hello.  
  
"You must be the angel," said Peggy Sue. Cas stared at her. "Pleased to meet ya. What's yer real name?"  
  
"I am Castiel, an angel of the Lord."  
  
"Good to see ya, have a slice of pie on the house. Dean was just heading home." They were summarily pushed out of the diner, brown bag with pie in his hands.  
  
+1 And then, everything happened.  
  
There was Dean almost giving up, and Cas beating him bloody up against the wall in an alley. There was Dean trying his very best to break Sam and Bobby, and trying to get his flirting with Cas out in the open where everyone could see and judge. There was Detroit, and Lucifer. There was Cas dying and coming back at the Stull graveyard. There was Sam, sacrificing himself to save the world, and Dean, left behind.  
  
Cas had fluttered in for a shitty goodbye in the car, and Dean hadn't been able to ask him to stay. Bobby was going to get back into hunting, and he didn't need anyone to look after him anymore (not that they had been allowed to take care of him when he was in a wheelchair, but they had done it anyway). When Dean left, Bobby hugged him, telling him to let go, to find Lisa, to live a normal life and be happy. Dean couldn't promise, but he implied he would do it.  
  
Half a day's drive from Sioux Falls, he checked in at a rundown motel. The only way he could possible enter a motel room without Sam by his side was by choosing a room with just one bed. Once he lay down over the covers, trying to sleep, his grief hit him hard. It was okay to cry, he reminded himself. He had lost his baby brother. He had failed Sammy, again, failed their father, but at least the world was safe. It was a cold comfort. Just a tiny glimmer of light in an unending darkness. (If he wanted to, he could end it all here. Just like he had been prepared to do with Michael. Nobody would bother resurrecting him now, when there was no apocalypse hanging over their heads.) He really shouldn't have left Bobby's, but the old man needed his own peace.  
  
He thought about going out, getting shitfaced, maybe even burrowing down into a pretty pair of tits, but that hadn't worked out so well the last few times. But... Well... There was one thing he needed to know.  
  
He grabbed his shoulder over Castiel's mark, and started praying. His entire body was tingling, a tickling warmth spreading from his arm. "Look, Cas, I don't even know if you can hear me, now that you're all levelled up again. I have no idea what you're up to in Heaven, sheriff, but we need to talk. Don't mean to rush you, just drop by when you have the time. Cas... I..." He didn't have the words to end that sentence. There was nothing he could say. Nothing.  
  
The silence was deafening. He wrapped the darkness and loneliness around himself, stared up at the ceiling, and eventually fell asleep from sheer exhaustion.  
  
He woke with a start, Ruby's knife in his hand before he could think about it, and he was trying to wrestle an intruder. The thing was strong, strong enough to flip him onto the floor and get him in a chokehold. "Dean!" He'd know that gravelly voice anywhere. He dropped the knife, and splayed his arms on the floor.  
  
"Cas." Cas moved his forearm from his throat. "God, Cas, don't do that to me." He leaned his head back, feeling the soft and worn carpet tickle the back of his neck.  
  
"I'm sorry, Dean," he said, but made no move to, well, move. There was a hundred and seventy pounds of celestial badass pressing him down, and he couldn't bring himself to complain. "I've made some time for you, because I thought you wanted to talk. I didn't expect you to attack me."  
  
"Yeah, but you don't sneak up on people in their sleep. It's creepy and rape-y."  
  
Cas cocked his head. "It's a prominent feature in those romance novels you hid from Sam."  
  
"You're not exactly helping your case here, stalker angel."  
  
"It was never my intention to 'stalk' you." Dean could hear the quote marks. "I merely sought information about your personality. All in the line of duty, to prepare you for being Michael's vessel. It was before we became friends." It was probably too late now to establish personal space boundaries, when Cas' legs were straddling his hips and their chests were in full contact, and he hadn't said anything about it until now. Oh, and Cas' hand was on the brand. Time to get certain. Time for Cas to put up or shut up.  
  
"Oh, yeah?" He bucked his hips slightly, and was pressed down even harder. "All for the glorious cause, nothing personal?" It felt wrong, and still oh, so right, to bare his neck, to make himself vulnerable, but he heard Cas' breath hitch.  
  
"Dean." There was a warning note in Cas' voice, but if Dean had listened to warnings, he wouldn't be here.  
  
"So, why did you cockblock me? Couldn't I have been your Righteous Man if I was sleeping around? That was part of the job, too?" He looked up, but for once, Cas wasn't staring at him. He was looking away. No poker face at all.  
  
"I... I didn't think you noticed."  
  
"Hell, I couldn't even rub one out without you interfering. Of course I noticed. I might not be Sam, but I'm not stupid." Sam. Sam. The grief hit him like a mallet to the chest, and he went completely limp.  
  
"I miss him, too," Cas said quietly, just a few inches from his ear. "Not like you do, but he was my friend." Cas got up, and in that moment, there was nothing that could comfort him. The emptiness was complete. He never even thought he needed an angel comfort blanket, but apparently he did. And then, he was scooped up, bridal style, and carried to the bed. Cas got down beside him, and hugged him, as if snuggling your male friend-with-whom-you-have-odd-chemistry was a completely normal thing to do. Dean didn't even want to bring that up, he just wrapped his arms around the angel.  
  
"Don't go. I need you."  
  
"I'm not leaving." There might have been tears, but none of them said anything about it. Eventually, Dean fell asleep, and woke up by dawn. Cas was still there, still holding him, and staring at him intensely. Apparently, angel powers included not having your arms fall asleep.  
  
"You're watching me sleep again. Didn't I tell you that is completely creeptastic?"  
  
"I don't sleep, and I couldn't get up without waking you."  
  
"You can make up for the creepiness by telling me why you were interfering with my sex life. And don't lie. Look me in the eyes and tell me the truth." Of course, Cas looked away.  
  
But then he brought those piercing pale blue eyes back to Dean's face. "The thought of you with them made me feel something no angel should ever have felt. I was becoming more and more human every day I spent in your presence. I was... jealous. I did everything I could to keep other people from touching you."  
  
Oh. "Oh," he said, after a pause.  
  
"I'm sorry. I'll go."  
  
"Hell to the no, you're not going anywhere." He grabbed Cas' hair, pulled him down and kissed him forcefully. It was awkward, with teeth clashing and noses getting in the way, but it was still the best thing he'd ever done. Cas tasted like honey, like earth and electricity, and he wanted to eat him all up. (So that's where that phrase came from.) Cas' tongue was in his mouth, and his lips were sloppy above Dean's. Abruptly, he stopped the kiss.  
  
"Do you want this, Dean? Do you want me, carnally, intimately?" He stared into Dean's eyes.  
  
"God, yes! I want all of you." Their next kiss was slower, more controlled, and Cas stroked his face and neck slowly. Dean didn't want slow. He grabbed Cas' ass, and pulled their hips together. They were both hard, and even through two layers of heavy fabric, the friction was lovely. "Clothes. Off." Suave, Dean, he thought to himself.  
  
Cas just looked confused, before getting the point and starting to work on pulling Dean's t-shirt up. Dean busied himself with their respective pants, fumbling with the buttons on Cas' slacks and his own jeans. Cas was starting to look disheveled again, like he had looked at the brothel, and it was the sexiest thing ever. Cas groaned, and buried his face in Dean's neck, licking and sucking. Dean bucked up under him. This was not gonna last long, and he didn't give a damn. Cas' hand found its way to the handprint mark, and whoa, that was... That was something else. He might have felt a tingling or two before, but this time? It was explosive. Warmth surged over him in waves, a strong feeling of contentment, of Cas being there, holding him in a way that wasn't physical.  
  
"Dean, I..." Cas hesitated and lifted his hand. "I marked your soul as mine, and I didn't even ask."  
  
"Then ask me now."  
  
"Do you want to be marked as mine, for everyone to see? Do you want to be mine, body and soul?"  
  
"Yes," he said, quietly. He might not have admitted it, even to himself, but it was what he had always wanted, ever since the day the witnesses rose, and Cas had crowded him against the kitchen counters. He had expected to be fucked then, to be owned, and he'd almost been disappointed when Cas left.  
  
"Good." There was nothing slow or controlled about Cas now. He was kissing, biting, taking, his hands roaming all over Dean's now naked upper body. Dean finally had his hand down Cas' underwear, and he squeezed Cas' cock. Off with the pants. Both pairs. It wasn't smooth, or anything like he'd imagined his first time with his angel (because yes, he'd imagined it), but finally their pants and underwear were shoved down to their knees, and he held both their cocks in his hand. It was dry and chafing, even after he licked his hand, but it was enough. Cas rutted against him, fucking his hand, and he tried the best he could to keep a rhythm going. Not that any of them needed much. Cas kissed him fiercely and came, and after that, it was a matter of just a few strokes before Dean was there, too.  
  
The sun was already shining in through the dirty window when they spoke again. "Soo... I guess I marked you, too," Dean said, gesturing to their sticky clothes.  
  
"I've always borne your mark, Dean. You changed me, from the moment I first saw your soul."  
  
Sappy, yes. No sense of what's appropriate to say. And so very much his own angel, his Cas. Dean grinned. "Not what I was thinking about. We should probably get cleaned up." He rose, and fetched towels for them both.  
  
"Dean. What are your plans?"  
  
"Honestly? I don't know. If you hadn't answered, I'd probably have gone to Lisa, but no way I'm trying that now. I can't quit hunting, there are still demons out there, probably working to get Lucifer out again. I just wish there was a way to get Sam back."  
  
"There might be." The words shook him to his core. "It's risky. I will have to go back to Hell, but I will do that for you."  
  
"You won't. Not without me, anyway. And weren't you going to play sheriff in Heaven?"  
  
"I wish I could explain what it's like in Heaven. Raphael is taking over, but I refuse to bow before him. I will probably be cast out, and maybe even Fall. But it's worth it. For you. For my own free will."  
  
"Yeah?" Dean grinned again. He'd never get tired of hearing that. "Just don't do anything stupid, you hear? You're mine, now, and I'm not letting you go."  
  
"Don't urge me to leave you or to turn back from you. Where you go I will go, and where you stay I will stay. Your people will be my people and your God my God."  
  
"You do know that I don't believe in God, right? And if he exists, he's an asshole." Cas nodded. "Sounds like you were quoting."  
  
"Ruth." Cas' smile was a lovely little thing. Okay, this was definitely getting sappy, heading into Lifetime territory.  
  
"Can't you run away, like Gabriel?"  
  
"I might be able to conceal myself, but I'd lose the use of my powers. Let's wait until we've found Sam until I try to cut my contact with the Host."  
  
A small part of Dean's mind was jumping up and down like an overly excited puppy, chanting his brother's name. The world was looking up. Everything wasn't lost. Things might actually turn out for the better, for once in his life. "I don't know about you, but I need a plate of bacon and eggs. What do you want for breakfast?"


End file.
